


Your Moral Enemy

by Ordinarily



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Drabble, Evil Chat Noir, F/M, Gen, Swearing, adrien agreste is soft, kind of plotless idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ordinarily/pseuds/Ordinarily
Summary: Working under his father's orders means being enemies with Ladybug, but after Chat Noir saves her, Marinette is thrown for a loop. After all, there's a reason Chat has a miraculous in the first place, right?





	Your Moral Enemy

She had trouble sleeping that night.

 

It was the way he looked at her with such... concern that made her heart ache and her mind combust into a million little pieces of confusion. Since when did Chat _care_?

He didn’t, she reminded herself as she tossed over yet again. But the moment her eyes shut, Chat’s face was there again, green eyes sparkling at her. It almost felt like a horror game. She pictured his smile contorting too wide and him jumping out at her but it didn’t help. Her eyes shot open and when they closed again he was back and he looked... desperate? There were bruises over his body and she wasn’t sure if it had been her doing. And then his head was thrown back and she really, _really_ hoped it wasn't her doing.

When had things gone so _wrong_?

Dumb question. Because, in fact, she knew exactly when things had gone so wrong, probably even down to the minute. 2:36 PM if she had to guess. The large clock in the middle of the city had told her so, but then again she wasn’t really looking.  

He’d saved her. She would’ve died, and he would’ve gotten her miraculous just as he always wanted. But he didn’t. He threw everything he and his father had been working toward for _years_ , all to save a girl he presumably didn’t give a shit about. 

Was everything she knew about Chat Noir so incredibly wrong? Was he not the boy who caused her limps and bruises and made her hiss and spit her disgust right back at his face? Who, after her friends took one look at her, swore they would kill whoever laid a hand on her? Who forced her to lie through her teeth to poor, sweet, unknowing Adrien—“I actually started taking self-defence classes. Nothing to worry about.”

Chat, who, in a split second, managed to catch her in his arms and send them both crashing to the floor in a frenzy of discomfort and tangled limbs while an explosion went off behind them. Chat, who looked her straight in the eyes like she was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on and uttered, “you okay?” in a voice so broken it made her heart squeeze. Chat, who inched a hair closer to her, tilting his head ever so slightly before snapping out of it and _jumping_ off her, booking it back to dear old dad. 

She closed her eyes again and suddenly she could feel him. All lean and hard muscle, pressing up against her front, soft locks teasing the bare skin of her neck. Voice low and deep and wrecked, but so full of worry. And eyes glowing at her in a way that seared green into her mind’s eye for what Marinette thought would probably be the rest of her life. 

She shot out of bed. 

She had to find him.

This was unacceptable—she would not be losing sleep over a mangy, obnoxious, unrepentant, _infuriating_ alley cat. 

So she transformed and set off into the night, jumping and leaping across buildings, with what was at first an annoying thought pushed to the back of her mind but was now an ever-growing trepidation.

How was she supposed to find him? Assume he would just be out and about in the world past midnight? Unlikely. So Ladybug settled for wandering around the city aimlessly in attempt to let the fresh air clear her racing thoughts. 

She found herself at the top of the Eiffel Tower—the view there always helped her deal with… whatever it was she was dealing with, really. You couldn’t see stars from a city like Paris, but all the twinkling lights in the city almost substituted. 

It was breathtaking. And suddenly she felt so small from where she was sitting. There was so much _life_ out there, each one as unique as her own and every time, it felt like just the right amount of too much. So she sat there and stared out at the city before a strangled cry caught her attention. 

“Jesus fuck, you again?”

It was almost too easy: Green eyes landed in front of her face, blocking her entire view and the moment went up in flames. Come to think of it, lots of things tended to go up in flames when Chat Noir was around. 

“Nice to see you too,” she said flatly.

“Don’t even play games with me, bug. You should be at home, in your bed, sleeping like the good little girl you are.” 

“What makes you think I’m so good all the time?” He was trying to provoke her, and Ladybug wasn’t really sure why. Usually he was all sarcastic quips and sour jabs; he didn’t initiate things.

“Right, it’s not like Paris’ superhero is written across your forehead or anything.”

“Hm. That’s a little too black and white, don’t you think? The good always good, the bad always bad?"

Chat stopped. He was thinking about today and she knew it. And then it occurred to her that his behaviour was a defence mechanism, so she tried her best not to dwell on it. “You know, what happened today doesn’t mean that I like you all of a sudden.”

Ladybug turned to him, finally. “Right. Feelings don’t work like that.”

Chat snapped, pacing around her. “Cut the bullshit. We’re not friends!”

“I never said we were.”

“You make me want to pull my hair out.

She shrugged. This was almost comical. Normally, the roles were reversed, almost to a T. “You could always stop talking to me if I make you so mad.”

Chat growled.

Then he sat down next to her, leaving a good couple of feet between them. Didn’t want her thinking they were suddenly on good terms. Ladybug smiled.  

“So are you gonna tell me what’s up with you, or?”

“Give me your miraculous.”

She looked at him. “My what now?”

“You heard me.”

“And how exactly did you fair that line would go in that pretty little head of yours? _Oh, yes Chat Noir, here you are, my liege. Deepest apologies for the years of trouble, for I am but a humble lady. Would you like your dick sucked as well_?”

“My dad’s not happy.”

Ladybug paused. Yeesh. She figured that much. Especially if he’d been witness to the whole ordeal.  

“He’s going to take away my miraculous.” 

“Ah. So you’re offering me a wager. My miraculous for yours.” He looked away. “And because of the good-hearted, good-natured Samaritan that I am—“

“Oh my god. Just fucking stop. You don’t have to draw it out like this. I knew this would be a mistake.” He moved to get up, running his claws through a mane of blond.

“I am grateful. For your saving,” she rushed out.

“Yeah well... maybe act like it then.”

“You know, you could always run away. Your dad seems like a piece of shit.”

“He’s not. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, insect.”

“You’re not happy.”

He stood, towering over her, and if Ladybug didn’t know better she’d almost consider it menacing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not happy,” she repeated. 

“I want my mom back,” was all he said.

That got Ladybug to pause. “Your mom?”

“Look, forget it. It’s none of your damn business, okay?”

“Christ, Chat, can you grow up for one fucking second? Every time I somehow manage to get through to you, even for a minute, you retrace your steps and turn it all back around until we’re right back to square one.” She rose to her feet, just because the height difference was beginning to irk her. "Aren’t you fucking tired?”  

“Every time you _manage_ to get _though_ to me?! As if you’re some kind of goddess and I’m the bratty kid who won’t listen? Good to know we see each other as equals.”

“What a load of shit! You’ve never once looked at me as an equal! You've literally  _spat_ in my _face_!”

“And I’ll do it again if I feel like it. Do you think I’d hit you if I thought you were below me? I’m not a sadist.”

“Okay, Chat, what’s this really about? We’re fighting about nothing. You’ve hated me your whole life—there’s no facet of respect, here.”

“I just—forget it. Never mind.” He reached for his baton and braced himself for a running start when Ladybug caught his wrist. 

He had tears in his eyes when he turned around. 

What in the world? Was this all some throughly plotted scheme? Chat was never, ever like this with her. In fact, she never really considered him an actual person until about a few hours ago. 

His wrist was warm, but the leather made him feel artificial again, so she tightened her grasp. 

“Tell anyone and you’ll wake up with claw marks in your neck and a missing limb.”

“Oh, empty threats. I though we were beyond this. My pride is hurt.” 

“Keep talking, bug.”

“No go ahead. I think I was listening to you.”

And all of a sudden, Chat looked small. Like the spitting image of the scraggly kitten she knew he was—lonely, defensive, disgruntled, and… kinda sad. Then he looked her straight in the eyes and his were so green and so glowing that she was taken aback for a short moment. “We’re... we’re supposed to get the ladybug miraculous... so that... so that we can bring back my mom.”

Ladybug was slow. “Bring her back?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know, either.”

“With the miraculous.”

He nodded. She was still holding his wrist. He didn’t pull back.

“How?”

“See previous.”

Ladybug sank. “Can it really do that?”

“The miraculouses together. Yeah.”

Ladybug huffed, though it was more of a sigh, really; she just wished it was haughty and that she and Chat could go back to fighting again before everything got so complicated. (She quickly reminded herself that she’d be dead if that was the case.) 

“So why did you save me? You really had me today, you know?”

Chat shook his head, letting out a breath. “I couldn’t... I... I’m not a murderer. Or a bystander.”

At the top of the glittering Eiffel Tower, she was feeling waves of impuissance, even with the impressive height and magnificent radiance. She had no right to make this about her though, so she composed herself and faced him. 

He flinched, probably expecting a punch or a kick or a shove or any of the other things they’d done to each other in the past. But then her arms were around him and he was as still as ever and what the hell did she think she was doing? She was sure she’d be pushed away or at the very least shrugged off but Chat buried his face in her shoulder and suddenly it felt like her entire world was crashing. 

Things had gone off course; some fate had been tampered with. 

And it had to be fixed. They had to fix this.


End file.
